Quinn heard her before she saw her. The door latched and shook as someone opened it before closing in on itself. "Hello?" The voice of her dreams; it carried on the air particles as the sound waves breached her eardrums, she sighed and instantly relaxed. Rachel Berry was in her home. Rachel Berry was in her home. In her home. Rachel Berry was home.
Quinn inclined her head as she heard the voice of her mother call out through the foyer, welcoming the brunette visitor warmly into the House of Fabray. "Hi, you must be Rachel! The girls are all waiting for you out in the back by the pool. Just follow Lupe, she'll lead the way for you." Quinn tensed at the near proximity. She could almost feel Rachel's thuds as she stepped further into the house, walking purposefully to the back patio door. "I can't do it" Quinn thought, her heart palpitated freely against her constricted chest and the sun was instantly too hot.
"I need air. Santana this is your entire fault. I can't breathe." Quinn groaned out load mostly to herself as she clutched at shiny porcelain skin. Brittany was lying across from her on a beach towel, playing with a ladybug on her finger; she looked up from her recreational activity and squinted into the sunlight at Quinn's worried expression.
"Hi, Turtle. You're outside…did you stop breathing again?"
Quinn covered her face with her palm as the footsteps drew closer to their location. She squirmed in her chaise. Santana smiled wickedly from her towel beside Brittany – her dark shades covered the intent behind her eyes as she concentrated nonchalantly on her Cosmo magazine. She arched an eyebrow,
"No Brittany, Q's fine. She's just doing underwater breathing exercises…" Santana talked as she scanned over a page with perfume on it. Brittany squinted at Quinn again.
"But, I thought you said it was cause Turtle was having a panic attack because you invited Rachel…?" Quinn groaned again before Santana could answer, she scurried quickly out of her lounge chair and hurried to the diving board.
She didn't think twice before flexing her calves and diving down into the blue crystalline water. It was cool. And it was quiet down there. The pounding in her eardrums relaxed, and her body flushed with a chill. She sighed inwardly as she stroked underwater – feeling it move against her sleek body. Her head breached the surface, and she hurried and followed it with her hands and arms, wiping the chlorine and water out of her dripping eyes as she leveled. And then she set eyes on her. Rachel Berry was staring right back at her. Ochre brown eyes locked on her fluid form as Quinn froze in the water. And then Santana broke the spell.
"Hairy Berry's finally decided to show her face. Isn't that swell Q?"
There was a smirk gracing Santana's lips as she spoke. Quinn grimaced right back at her. – And then she turned her eyes and found Rachel's again. The little brunette was wearing denim cut off shorts and flip-flops with a simple gray tank top. Her legs were divine. Quinn trailed up them slowly, marveling at their beauty before settling on the edges of Rachel's shorts at her thigh. Why didn't Rachel look that hot at school? Quinn burned, her skin scorched although she was immersed in water. She needed a reprieve – she shook her head almost unnoticeably before nodding to Rachel, and then she dove back underwater, hoping to cool her burning skin.
"I thought you said this was a pool party Brittany, where is everybody? "
Rachel interjected. She was still standing awkwardly at the patio deck, unsure of where to go. If she should walk over to sit with Santana and Brittany or simply stand where she was, hopelessly sneaking glances at a particularly unfazed yet gorgeous Quinn Fabray as she swam.
All if it was unbearably confusing for the brunette. To begin, it was summertime – school was out, and there was no point in Santana and Brittany and most of all Quinn to even want to talk to her now that Glee Club was in summer hiatus. And so, with obvious clarity it confused her to her vey core when three days prior she had received a text message from one Brittany S. Pierce:
"Hi. Santana told me 2 txt u that ur sppsd 2 cum to r pool prty at Q's." – Brittany
Rachel had been in the middle of re-organizing her playbill collection at the time of the text, but she was left utterly speechless upon its arrival. Both for the fact that Brittany Pierce had her number, and secondly because she couldn't understand a word that the blonde had written; honestly what the heck was "sppsd" meant to mean anyway? Oddly enough Rachel texted back out of sheer, unadulterated curiosity – and to find out what "sppsd" meant.
"What? I apologize but I failed to grasp much of what your intention to say was. And who is Q? Is that some weird mystery man or character? Is this like Sherlock Holmes! … And what is 'sppsd?' " – RB
Rachel was confused. This had to be the beginning of some cruel joke. Why on earth else would the three members of the unholy trinity of Lima, Ohio be ushering her to a pool party at the Queen of said trifecta's house. She was going to die. And then her phone buzzed again in her clammy hand. She jumped and tried to withhold a squeal.
"Huh, Idgi? Anywy Q is Quinn. She wants u her pool prty on Sat." – Brittany
"Quinn. As in Quinn Fabray? I'm invited to her pool party on Saturday? …Why would you all go through all of this trouble to invite me? Quinn Fabray HATES me…. I think." – RB
Rachel grimaced at the text and then hit SEND. But it was a valid question wasn't it? The blonde was gorgeous – anyone with eyes could be held witness to that universal truth, but there was a layer to Quinn that terrified the brunette: sure the blonde was snarky, vindictive, and downright bitchy. But Rachel was always the one to hold claim to the layer beyond the layer – the plaster beneath the veneer: in reality Quinn was just passionate, and she was sensitive, and she lacked confidence. And Rachel saw through that façade every day. The blonde was becoming an open book. Well, as open as a book like Quinn Fabray could be.
"Yea, anyway…Santana hates u. But why wld Q hate you? She nvr htd u. She thinks ur neat. Come to the prty! It's 4. Me n San, n Q n stuff will all be there Blueberry! Ok, thnx byeee xoxox – Brittany
Blueberry? That was weird. And it was even weirder that Brittany made it seem like Quinn actually liked her. No matter how true that statement could be it definitely didn't translate into real life circumstances or interactions. Rachel sighed and then jumped again as her phone went off yet another time. The number was different, and Rachel gulped against her will before reading the message.
"Ur coming to Q's on Saturday man hands – Brittany already planned stuff for u 2 do, so ur gonna fucking show or prepare 2 die Barbra. Deuces – SLO"
The gulp was not in vain. Santana Lopez was a goddamn demon – and now Rachel didn't have a choice. She would be going to Quinn Fabray's house on Saturday at 4 in the evening for a pool party. Joy, joy, joy. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
And that was the initial stage that led her to exactly where she was standing now. In her bathing suit and shorts and tank top looking over the Fabray's back yard and falling to pieces behind the scrutinizing gazes of the unholy trifecta. Santana didn't look up at Rachel's questioning stance and ignored her. Brittany however jumped up, and ran over to Rachel's side – hugging the small brunette.
"I'm so glad you made it Blueberry," Brittany smiled brilliantly down at Rachel, and Rachel smiled back. How could she not at a welcome like that?
"Hi…Brittany. So, where did everyone go? Is there a game station set farther out back? Did you provide musical entertainment Quinn?" Brittany furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. It was completely endearing.
"What is she talking about Turtle?" Quinn had reemerged from the cool water, her skin much more tolerable now as her breathing steadied. She stared at the brunette from her perch at the edge of the pool. God she was breath taking.
"Turtle?" Quinn snapped her eyes away from Rachel and blushed under the heat. She managed to clear her throat and answer the two of them quietly.
"It's just us four. It's more of a get together. Santana's idea." And at the utterance of Santana's name Quinn's tone dragged deeper in annoyance. And she snuck a glance over to the manipulative little firecracker sitting on her beach towel. Santana looked up from beneath her shades and gave an air kiss in Quinn's direction. She scowled in return. Goddamn fucking Santana.
Rachel looked up at Quinn then, and the two of them locked eyes. Rachel blushed and skirted her vision away – landing on a tree in the distance; it would be her safe spot- because she had to stop staring at Quinn Fabray. The blonde was addictive, and she was leaning against the inside ledge of the pool; her shoulders and upper back snaking out of jet blue water as her hair ran sleek and beautifully down her back into small ripples. Her skin was beaded with water droplets as she stood there – and Rachel couldn't help but sneak glances out of the corners of her eyes. It was like a mild drug – a beautiful, blonde, unforgettable drug.
"Oh. Well thanks for inviting me…" Rachel finished before Brittany grabbed her hand and dragged her over to the towels where Santana was sitting. Quinn smiled in return from her safe haven in the pool. And this time, whilst staring back at those big brown eyes— This time, her smile was real. Oh, was it real.
A few hours later found the four of them lying in the grass by the swimming pool in their bathing suits playing Egyptian Rat screw. It was one of Brittany's favorite games, and Santana loved it because Brittany loved it (probably also because she got to slap people for fun). It was an odd moment for Quinn. If you had told her four days ago as she lay sprawled across her father's desk in his study that she would be playing a card game at her house with Rachel Berry, San and Britt she would have laughed in your face – and then probably hit you for good measure. But here they were.
Santana was surly – she was losing, badly. And Quinn couldn't help but beam inside as she witnessed Rachel Berry's insane Egyptian Rat screw prowess.
SMACK. "Sandwich!" Rachel squealed as she firmly smacked the growing pile of cards that lay between them.
"That was not a fucking sandwich, Berry-licious. I'm checking the pile." Santana was tense and angry – the Latina hated losing in any capacity. Brittany snatched the pile away quickly before Santana could grab hold of it and she set it back into Rachel's hands.
"It was a sandwich Bug, look – Ace, ten, Ace, sandwich." Santana growled. Literally, before scooting back on her heels and standing up on her tan feet. She mumbled something along the lines of: "If she likes sandwiches so much…fucking knuckle sandwich." Before flipping her hair to the side and walking towards the patio doors to go into the house.
"Bug! Where are you going?" Brittany called after her curiously. Her lip pouted at the interruption of the game. Santana looked back and her hard eyes softened to malleable orbs of brown– She extended a warm hand and Brittany got up to grab it.
"Just going inside to make a sandwich. All that talk made me hungry Waff." Brittany giggled, and interlaced their fingers.
"I'll go with you bug. Can we have PB&J?" Santana turned on her heel, fingers intertwined with her love's as she nodded her head.
"Of course, Waff. I love PB & J."
And then the two of them were gone into the house. Leaving Quinn and Rachel outside in the grass to pick up the pieces of a forgotten card game.
Quinn sighed and lay back in the grass – she curled her arms around the back of her head as she stared up into the dwindling sunset; the oranges and reds and purples warming her from the inside out. Dusk was always her favorite time of day – it was her heavenly sanctuary on earth's realm.
"Are we going to finish the game?" Rachel inclined her head. She hated leaving projects unattended – it made her antsy.
"Nuh Uh." Quinn turned her head and looked up at Rachel. The brunette looked defeated as she scooped up all of the wayward card piles and shuffled them all back into the box. Quinn chuckled at the sight – Rachel looked like a little girl just then. And she was radiant against the refracted light of the Lima sunset.
"Hey Q-Qui … I mean, do you know why Brittany calls me Blueberry? I mean, the phrase is quite clever and ultimately endearing – but I was just curious."
The girl was rambling. And what was that? She couldn't even say Quinn Fabray's name out loud. She swallowed dryly – marveling in her embarrassment, and complete lack of composure. The blonde looked up at her and steeled her eyes. There was something there Rachel noted – another layer to the puzzle slowly unlocking. What did she see in those hazel eyes – was it passion?
"Brittany gives everyone she cares about a nickname – and it's usually something that's incredibly special to her and no one else. Like Santana, her name is Bug; short for Lady Bug – Lady Bugs are Brittany's favorite animal. When we were fourteen, I tried to tell her that ladybugs weren't really animals but insects. I remember Britt cried for days - and so I took it back, naturally. And…Santana has been Bug ever since." Rachel smiled at the thought.
"And what about you? What does she call you?"
Rachel ducked her eyes again – not out of embarrassment this time, but as she looked at Quinn she was simply enraptured with the blonde's beauty and it stilled her. Was that what being bashful felt like? Rachel didn't know what to make of it at all.
"Turtle." Quinn didn't elaborate or explain this time like she had with Santana. She picked at a dandelion and blew its seeds out into the open evening air – watching them swirl and spin against the breeze. Rachel didn't think the blonde would answer her, and so she turned back to her hands – praying for an end to the silence before Quinn spoke again. This time, the blonde's voice was soft and quiet – Rachel had to strain to hear every syllable.
"My name is Turtle because I'm smart, and I'm passionate – but I tend to fail to make my mark indelible. Or, in other words – I'm slow when it comes to opening myself up to people. I wait, and I wait – and if you're lucky, I just might speed up the pace, but I'm almost never the one to make it to the finish line along with everyone else."
"Wow. That, That's beautiful Quinn." At the sound of her name on the lips of the brunette beside her, Quinn fell apart. Her heart burst open again, but this time with unyielding love and caring for the small girl sitting next to her.
"What about Waff? Why do you call Brittany that…and why am I Blueberry?"
Quinn smiled at the swell of her heart beating against her solid chest.
"Firstly – Brittany loves waffles, hence, waffle. Secondly, blueberries are my favorite fruit – I have a feeling Brittany did more than name you out of coincidence."
And with that Quinn sat up and averted her gaze. Did she just say that last bit out loud? She definitely didn't mean to. But the look that Rachel had given her simply terrified her. The little diva was silent, and her eyes had widened, her lips slackened slightly as she stared right back at Quinn's petrified face. And then Rachel smiled, her brilliant -true as the air that I breathe- smile directly at Quinn, and she beamed. A small hand enclosed around another, and Rachel scooted closer, staring now at the burgeoning sunset before them.
"I love blueberries too Quinn."
And Quinn could have collapsed right then and there had it not been for the small hand anchoring her to the ground. Goddamn fucking Santana and her scheming ways. – She would have to thank the Latina now – she had a beginning.
7
